Slumber Party
by Bleeding Jazz Gums
Summary: It's not a slumber party. No, really.


"_Sir, Doctor Banner is here for your slumber party. He is waiting in the foyer._"

"This is not a slumber party, JARVIS. And I will thank you to stop talking to Rhodey unless I'm around."

"_Whatever you say, Sir._"

"Damn right."

After a brief hesitance, Tony changes from his silk pajama bottoms into jeans and a white teeshirt. Casual is good, yes; but not too casual. Because this is not a slumber party, damn it.

"_Sir,_" JARVIS speaks up again calmly. "_Doctor Banner is wanting to know if you will be down soon or if he will be forced to braid his own hair and watch Legally Blonde by himself._"

He facepalms.

"Tell- oh screw it I'll tell him myself," he muttered, scrubbing a hand through his hair and leaving the bedroom at a leisure pace. It was more to annoy Banner than to be lazy, a habit he hasn't quite gotten out of after the A-Team(see? _A-Team _sounds way cooler than _Avengers_. Screw copyrights, that's totally their name from now on)disbanded. Or went their separate ways. Or went on vacation.

Whatever the hell it is that they did.

"_Excellent, Sir._"

Tony refrains from speaking his rather annoyed opinion, then thinks better about it and does it anyway.

"_Anatomically impossible, Sir. Especially since I am not in possession of a-_"

"Yes! Yes, JARVIS, I realize this; I made you, after all, I know what I gave you and what I didn't," he grumbled. "Where is Doctor Banner now?"

"_Still waiting in the foyer, Sir. He is going through your playlist now._"

"...Didn't I have that encrypted and fire-walled?"

"_Yes, Sir._"

"Oh. Okay then."

When he finally gets there-he takes a brief minute(or ten) to admire a painting he's only just noticed is there in his hallway-Bruce is doing something to his playlist that he's pretty sure he should be suspicious of because he's hunched over the screen that is mounted on the wall and long bony fingers are flying across the on-screen keyboard.

Tony leans against the doorway and just watches.

"Are you done yet?" He smirks.

Bruce doesn't jolt or even twitch, still keeping his eyes on the screen as he calmly replies, "Nearly." A few more moments, in which Bruce's fingers are still a blur, until he sighs out a breath and straightens up. He uses his index finger to push his glasses back up his nose when he turns to face Tony, smile almost serene.

"_Sir,_" JARVIS says. "_Your playlist has been replaced with the theme songs from cartoons from Cartoon Network, Disney, Nickelodean, Toon-_"

"Thank you, JARVIS, that will be all." He studied Bruce. "I get the feeling that if you had teamed up with Loki, we'd all be bowing down in sync with My Little Pony right now."

"Don't be absurd." Bruce scoffs. "It would certainly be Avatar the Last Airbender."

He stared.

Bruce smiled.

"You're scary," Tony decides.

He shrugs. "You did electrocute me."

"Still remember that, do you? Grudges are not attractive, Doctor Banner. Now, though, it's time to get back on track if we want to have time for everything on tonight's To-Do-List."

"...We have a To-Do-List?" The scientist asks hesitantly.

"Yes. JARVIS, tell him the To-Do-List."

"_Mr. Stark has created a To-Do-List specifically for tonight, Doctor Banner. This To-Do-List will involve copious amounts of alcohol, prank phonecalls and strip chess._"

"What?" Bruce asked as Tony choked on air.

"_No_!" He said furiously, glaring mutinously at the ceiling. "Damn it, JARVIS, no more talking to Rhodey at _all_."

"_That was Miss Potts' suggestion, Sir._"

There was an awkward moment in which Bruce turned to stare at Tony's dumbstruck face, looking as if to be struggling not to laugh. "That wouldn't be Miss _Pepper _Potts, would it, JARVIS?" He murmured wickedly.

"Don't answer that. You," Tony pointed at Bruce, who raised his hands palm out. "Are my guest. So shut the hell up."

Bruce dipped his head sheepishly, but not before Tony saw the grin stretch over his face.

"It's time for alcohol." He decided, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Lots of alcohol."

"That sounds like loads of fun, really, but I don't drink."

Tony hummed, nodding his head knowingly even as he headed for the bar. "We'll make sure to get lots and lots of water into you before you fall asleep then so the hangover you'll have in the morning won't kill you too horribly."

"Has anyone told you you're incredibly arrogant, Stark?" Bruce asked, taking a seat at the bar while the billionaire playboy started mixing drinks.

"Yep. Or, well, kind of. Not in so few words; usually it's something along the lines of 'Tony Stark you beautiful piece of man meat, you are so confident and self assured, I swoon in your very presence'."

"Something like that, hm?" Bruce ignored the drink Tony set down in front of him, instead choosing to start folding the napkin he had set the glass on.

"Most of the time. Well, sometimes. Pepper does. Once. How did this conversation turn around to me?" He demanded. "Drink your whiskey, I will not have a sober scientist in my house."

"Tony," Bruce said calmly enough, although Tony was sure he could hear laughter in it. "I don't drink. Ever."

He raised his own glass in a mock salute. "Now is as good as any time to start. Here's to your new found alcoholism."

He laughed under his breath. "I'm not drinking."

"At all?"

"Around you? I would probably be safer being an eighteen year old girl at a frat party."

"How you wound me." Tony sipped his own liquor. "Alright, well, if you don't want my alcohol-which is very good, by the way, how dare you snub it-then I will be forced to drink for the both of us." So saying, he tossed back his own drink quickly, and without missing a beat reached over to grab Bruces' glass so he could follow up the first cup of alcohol with another.

"Please don't," Bruce said dryly, not even bothering to look up from his napkin folding. "I'd hate to be the poor man who would be forced to explain your going to the hospital because of the obscenely large amount of alcohol in your bloodstream to Miss Potts."

Tony pursed his lips in thought even as his hand reached for a bottle."True. Plus she might make you Hulk out, y'know. That would be bad, and not just because I wouldn't be around to see it."

Bruces' head snapped up at this, eyes narrowed in warning. "Tony-"

"I mean, what if it got out that the _Hulk _was reduced to an apologizing, sobbing mess because of a little redheaded woman?" He paused, then amended, "Well, not so little. Have you seen her legs? I'm not sure how it's scientifically possible, but I am _absolutely certain _that they end at her ears. No, really."

Tony was gleefully amused to see that the scientists' jaw was open while he stared, still trying to catch up to Tony's train of thought. "What-"

He sent the man a pitying look. "You might turn into a giant green rage monster, Bruce, but you've got _nothing _on Peps when she's mad." He shuddered. "Believe me. I've seen you both; there is _no _comparison."

With an audible _snap _Bruces' jaw closed. After a few more silent moments, he turned his attention back to his napkin and started folding once again.

"Thank you," he murmured.

Tony shrugged, raising his third glass to his lips to hide his faint smirk.

"Wanna toast to our awesome new found emotional bonding moment?"

"Hell, no."

"Fair enough. Wanna order pizza and play chess instead?"

"...Yeah."

And that was how they ended up sitting on the couch, playing their second game of chess in five hours, surrounded by half empty pizza boxes crumbled bags of popcorn and origami boats and swans made from napkins.

Well, Bruce was sitting on the couch surrounded by food and origami napkins. Tony had somehow managed to splay himself on the floor across from Bruce once they had gotten out the chess set and had began playing. Instead of food, he had opted to surround himself instead with liquor bottles and glasses since he had kept forgetting where he had put the last one and had swayed-eventually-stumbled up to go get another.

Bruce was amused to note that this was because Tony continuously kept setting his glasses behind him so they wouldn't get in the way, and continuously kept forgetting this little detail.

After the fourth or fifth time(Bruce was forced to look away every single time, firmly biting down on his lip to stomp on the inappropriate and humiliating giggles that wanted to spew forth), he felt the need to intercede. After a while.

"Tony," Bruce said firmly, holding out a hand to steady the wobbling playboy. "I think you've had enough."

"Prolly," Tony agreed readily, voice only the barest bit slurred. "M'just gunna put this glass up."

"Uh huh." Amused, Bruce wasted no time in reaching over the back of the couch to grab the hem of the playboys shirt and tugging so he landed in a messy sprawl over the other side of the couch. Satisfied, Bruce tilted his head mockingly. "I'm getting the feeling that this isn't necessarily an unfamiliar position for you, Tony."

With his face buried in between the cushions, Bruce had a hard time trying to interpret what Tony had just said. "Pardon?"

"I said," Tony repeated, taking his face from the cushions and sending Bruce the stink eye from over his shoulder. "You're an asshole."

Bruce was then introduced to the sight of Ironman scuttling around like a crab on his own couch so he could face him, stomach down and head propped up pathetically on his folded arms. "M'sorry. I lied. You're not an asshole."

"Maybe, maybe not, but _you're_ drunk."

"Lies. I don't get drunk. Ask Pep." He yawned.

"Do I have to get Miss Potts on the line?" Bruce asked warningly, stirring Tony awake long enough to shoot him a glare and a very impolite finger.

"M'not scared of Peps," he mumbled into the cushion. "Just'er shoes."

Bruce hummed a laugh. "I'll keep that in mind."

They sat in silence, Tony sprawled over half of the couch with his forehead resting on his arms and face pushed into the cushion, one leg bent and resting against the back of the couch while the other lay sprawled over the edge(and was that a crushed pizza box under his stomach?) while Bruce kept himself on one cushion, one ankle resting on the other knee with his hands in his lap.

Gently, he lay his head against the back of the couch and let out a quiet, almost inaudible sigh.

His eyes were _just _drifting shut when Tony's voice, half muffled by the cushion, broke the sleepy haze. "Bruce," Tony mumbled.

He blinked to clear the bleariness away, but didn't do much more than that. "Hmm?"

"Gimme y'origami thingy."

It took a few moments, but eventually Bruce realized what he was talking about. Sitting up a little, he turned his attention to the small pile of swans and boats on the corner of the coffeetable. He cracked half a smile. "Would you like a swan or a boat?"

"Both." Tony said, drawing out the syllables obnoxiously. Bruce reached over, careful not to jostle the couch too much while he picked up a slightly bent boat and crooked-neck swan.

"No," Tony argued, and Bruce glanced over to see him peeking over his arm. "M'want the other ones."

He couldn't help it; Bruce rolled his eyes. Setting the crooked origami back, he picked up the two best ones he had folded of each and leaned back. He watched in amusement as Tony's eyes followed his hand where they rested, grunting in thanks as Bruce carefully rested them in the crooks of his bent elbows before burrowing his face back under his arms and breathing deeply.

Grinning openly now, Bruce returned to his original relaxed position and allowed his eyes to close fully.

_Best slumber party ever._

* * *

_It's a little short, it's a lot lame, but here it is. This oneshot is dedicated to _KayValo87_, because romantic or not, Sciencebros. Sciencebros **forever**._


End file.
